


sorry about the blood in your mouth

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flashbacks, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Mild Smut, Not Actually Unrequited Love, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: in which eliott is married, lucas is in love with him and, surprisingly, it’s a lot more complicated than that.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant, Eliott Demaury/Lucille (SKAM France)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 205





	sorry about the blood in your mouth

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: the behavior in this fic is not always healthy! you might not like the characters! you might not understand why i wrote them a certain way or doing certain things. that’s okay! sometimes, we can be shitty. sometimes, we do toxic things. sometimes, we hurt people. sometimes, most of the time, we’re not perfect. this isn’t meant to romanticize or condone any of their behavior, just simply to say this happens, and even our fav characters can be shitty.  
> also, a reminder that eliott does cheat in canon and lucas is a willing participant, so this isn’t extremely ooc. if you don't like it, don't read it!!
> 
> titled from crush by richard siken

_“i swear, i end up feeling empty,_  
_like you’ve taken something_  
_out of me, and i have_  
_to search_ _my body for the_  
_scars, thinking_ _Did he find_  
_that one last_ _tender place to_  
_sink his teeth in?”  
__-crush, richard siken_

Lucas stares at the fan on the ceiling as it spins, barely doing anything to cool the sweat on his skin and the sting of tears in his eyes. Eliott, who’s across the room and slowly getting dressed, keeps giving him pitiful glances, which really just makes the whole thing worse.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Lucas asks, knotting his hand in the sheets and pulling them up higher, covering more of himself even though Eliott has seen it all before. Many times.

“I hate hurting you,” Eliott whispers, and Lucas closes his eyes. Breathe in. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Breathe out. “It doesn’t,” he murmurs, willing himself not to cry so he can look Eliott in the eye and challenge him properly. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You can leave her just as easily as you leave me every damn time.”

The bed dips under Eliott’s weight, and Lucas reminds himself to breathe again. In, out, in, out. If he lets his breathing become labored, Eliott will know he’s about to cry. And it’s not like he doesn’t want Eliott to know how badly this hurts, because he does, in fact he wants Eliott to know and feel the sting of guilt all the time, like an itch that he can’t scratch. But crying exposes a certain weakness and vulnerability that Eliott just doesn’t deserve to see from Lucas right now.

Also, it helps Lucas feel less pathetic if he doesn’t cry. He knew what he was getting into from the first moment he let Eliott come over, and he knew when they slept together, and he knew the first time Eliott told him he loved him. He wishes this was the first time he’s questioned Eliott’s sincerity in that statement, but it isn’t. Not even close.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers, and Lucas winces. “You know it’s not that simple. If it was that simple, I would never leave this bed, ever.” He smooths Lucas’s hair back and presses a kiss to his hairline, and Lucas’s next breath in is much shakier than he’d like to admit.

“It’s just simpler to pick her over me, isn't it?”

“I’m not—baby, I’m not picking her.”

“But you are,” Lucas snaps, sitting up and shoving Eliott’s hand away. He starts searching for his boxers to put on—he doesn’t need to be so exposed, emotionally or physically. “You keep saying you love me and that you would choose me over her any day, and then you go home to her every fucking time. Don’t you see? You’re picking her.”

Eliott sets his jaw, and Lucas turns his back to him.

***

_“What about him?” Baz asks, nudging Lucas’s elbow and directing his attention to a booth across the bar, where a man with olive skin is sitting with a few friends. “He’s cute.”_

_Lucas snorts, “And straight. I’m trying to pull, Baz, not get a drink thrown in my face.”_

_“How can you tell he’s straight?”_

_“_ _He’s drinking cheap beer and cringes every time he sips it. He hates beer, obviously, yet he’s drinking it to fit in. Straight.”_

_Baz sighs, turning back to his own beer and downing a gulp. Lucas often wonders why Basile insists on being his wingman so often when it always goes the same—Lucas rejecting or finding fault with every guy that Basile picks for him._

_Lucas points to the end of the bar. “I’ve got my eye on him. He’s been alone since he got here,” he murmurs, and Basile follows his finger._

_The man sitting at the end of the bar looks really out of place. He’s dressed in a full suit, but his tie is loosened and tossed over his shoulder, and his hair looks as if it’s been blow-dried but not further styled. But he’s adorable, with a crinkly smile and adorable facial expressions. Everything he’s thinking practically flits across his face._

_Basile nods, considering. “Yeah, he’s hot. But why the fuck is he in a suit in a bar? That screams straight to me.”_

_“The suit is fitted perfectly, though,” Lucas counters, and shrugs. “Maybe he’s just coming for a drink after work. Not every guy who wears a suit is Barney Stinson.”_

_“Who?”_

_“From How I Met Your Mother.” When Basile just gives him a blank look, Lucas waves it off. “Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go over there.”_

_Baz pouts, “Bro, I’m supposed to help you.”_

_“You did, you helped me eliminate boys until I got to him. Thanks, bro.” He high fives Basile and then, without waiting to see if Basile fed into the bullshit, he heads over to the man’s side of the bar._

_When Lucas approaches, the man startles, like he hadn’t thought anyone was going to come up to him. Lucas just smiles in what he hopes is a friendly and comforting way, gesturing towards an empty stool by way of asking the man if he can sit. The man nods, and Lucas sits quickly, smiling even wider._

_“Hi,” Lucas grins, crossing his legs and leaning closer to him. “Couldn’t help but notice you were sitting over here alone, thought you might want some company. My name’s Lucas.”_

_“Eliott,” the man nods, holding out his hand. Lucas nearly laughs—who the hell shakes hands in a bar of all places—but holds back, and just shakes his hand. “Um, nice to meet you.”_

_“Pleasure’s all mine. So, pardon my asking, but why are you sitting here all alone?”_

_Eliott shrugs, “I came here alone. Just needed a drink before I headed home. It’s been quite a day, hence the suit.” He smiles, almost bashful, and Lucas is hopelessly endeared. “What about you? Were you alone, or did you leave your friends to come speak to me?”_

_“_ _I left my friend, but he’ll be fine. He wants to pull,” Lucas explains, and leans impossibly closer, hoping he’s making his intentions clear. When Eliott doesn’t react, Lucas takes it as another green light._

_“_ _Did you want to pull?”_

_“_ _Whatever happens, happens,” Lucas murmurs, trying for coy but probably failing miserably. He moves his hand to rest on Eliott’s knee, and while Eliott jumps a bit at the contact, he doesn’t pull away, so Lucas leaves it._

_Eliott clears his throat, pulling at his tie to loosen it more. Lucas smirks. “So, uh, why are you wasting your time with me, then? Surely you can pull a girl way prettier than me,” he jokes, but it falls flat, and Lucas just frowns. “That was a joke. Uh, sorry.”_

_“_ _What did you think I came over here for?” Lucas asks, sliding his hand up further on Eliott’s thigh. Eliott gapes a bit. “I wanted to talk to you. And, you know. Whatever happens, happens.”_

_Eliott jerks back all of a sudden, as if Lucas’d burned him. “I-I can’t. I… I can’t, I’m not…”_

_I’m sorry,” Lucas says quickly, holding his hands up innocently. “You’re straight. It’s fine. I’m sorry.”_

_“No, I…” Eliott’s hand falls to his jacket pocket, smooths over it, and then he looks back up at Lucas again. “I’m not… Could we meet in the bathroom, maybe?”_

_Closeted, Lucas decides._

_Lucas smiles a bit. “Yeah, sure.” He winks at Eliott once, and then backs off, walking back over to Basile._

***

Eliott paces around the room, still not fully dressed even though Lucas is wearing joggers and a shirt by now. Lucas leans against the headboard and pulls his knees to his chest, just watching Eliott pace. He doesn’t have to leave quite yet, and Lucas thinks this is worse than the actual moment that Eliott walks out the door—the waiting. Waiting for her to call, and knowing Eliott won’t leave until she does. But they’re both holding their breath, just waiting for it.

Lucas picks at a loose string on his joggers, feeling hopelessly horrible. Here he is, loving a man who isn’t and will never be his, and he fell in love with him knowing that Eliott is married. He knew, and he’s known, and he slept with him anyway. God, he probably hates himself more than Lucille could ever hate him, if she ever found out.

He never would’ve kissed Eliott in that fucking bathroom if he’d known before. He didn’t know until after Eliott had come down his throat in the bar bathroom, because only then had Eliott flashed him the gold band hidden in his jacket pocket. Lucas had gotten angry, but Eliott had cried, and god, Lucas’s been a sucker since the first time he saw Eliott.

“I don’t understand why you’re still with her if you don’t love her. It’s not fair to her,” Lucas mumbles, because Eliott has confided that to him before. Eliott doesn’t love Lucille.

He loves Lucille in every way except romantic, of course. And Lucas gets that. But Eliott… Eliott isn’t in love with her. Apparently he’s been trying to force himself to be in love with her for years, which is why he’s still married to her. He convinced himself that the love he felt was still the same, and he married her, and never let himself think about anyone else.

Until Lucas. He let himself think about Lucas, and here they are in the bind they’re in now.

Eliott turns on Lucas, eyes blazing. “Shut the hell up about her,” he snaps, and Lucas clutches his knees tighter to his chest. “You don’t know her, okay? You don’t know anything about my relationship with her, so don’t pretend you do. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair to my wife and what’s not.”

“Fine,” Lucas snaps back, “then it’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to me that you tell me all of these things and then go right back to her. And I sure as hell get to tell you what’s fair in your relationship with me.”

Eliott’s eyes narrow. “No, you don’t,” he says, his voice all ice. “This,” he gestures between himself and Lucas with two fingers, “isn’t a relationship, so fair doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It’s not a relationship? Wow, I must’ve missed that when you were telling me that you’re fucking in love with me.” Tears well in Lucas’s eyes, and he breathes in and out, in and out. If he cries, Eliott will be done for, and Lucas doesn’t want that. He wants Eliott to hurt, but not like that.

“Don’t fucking—”

“Don’t what?” Lucas asks, knowing how hysterical he sounds but not caring. He raises up on his knees on the bed, gesticulating so wildly that he’s worried (in the back of his mind) that he might accidentally knock a lamp over. “Don’t throw that in your face? That’s fucking bullshit, Eliott. I can say this shit, okay? I have the right, because every single time you go home, I have to sit here alone and fester in it. I have to think about it all the fucking time, while you’re home with her, I’m here wondering if it was all a lie because you picked her."

Eliott scrubs his hand over his face, and Lucas knows he’s fighting tears too. “None of that is a lie, Lucas. I have never once lied about how I feel about you.”

“So you just lie to her, then?” Eliott’s eyes blaze again, and Lucas is so fucking tired. “Why aren’t I enough for you, Eliott? You say you don’t love her, and you say that you’ll leave her, so why don’t you? Why won’t you just stay with me?”

“You’re more than enough for me, Lulu,” Eliott whispers, his voice low and deadly and not at all comforting.

They’ve never fought like this before. It’s always unspoken, every time Eliott leaves. But they’ve never hashed it out like this. Lucas has asked him to stay, and Eliott has explained why he couldn’t (can’t), but they’ve never yelled. Lucas’s never fought him like this before.

It’s a long time coming, though. Lucas’s spent so many nights wondering why he’s not good enough, why Eliott doesn’t love him enough. Wondering why his love isn’t enough to convince Eliott that this is what real love is like, to show him the life that he could have if he’d just accept that he doesn’t love Lucille like he loves Lucas. It’s no one’s fault, Lucas wishes Eliott would accept that. It’s not Eliott’s fault that he doesn’t love Lucille the same anymore, and it’s not Lucille’s fault. It’s just how it ended up. And he’s realized that for sure now, so why isn’t Lucas enough?

“And that’s what I’m so fucking scared of,” Eliott finishes, and Lucas has to bite his cheek.

***

 _It’s 3am when Lucas’s phone rings, pulling Lucas out of sleep. He fumbles for it angrily, expecting it to be Arthur or Yann with some dumb bullshit like it usually is._

_But when he sees the caller ID, it says Eliott’s name._

_“Hello?” Lucas answers, voice gruff and thick with sleep._

_“Hi,” Eliott says, but it’s a whisper, and Lucas has to strain to hear him. “Um, are you busy?”_

_“Just sleeping, man.”_

_“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”_

_Lucas sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He reads the time on the clock across the room and groans internally. “It’s fine. What did you need?”_

_There’s a long silence, and for a moment Lucas genuinely thinks that Eliott fell asleep on him, which would be really fucking rich. But then he hears the shaky breathing, and Lucas becomes alert almost instantly, the last bit of sleep leaving him just like that._

_Eliott’s voice comes across, shaky and still almost too quiet, “Can I come over?”_

_And Lucas knows a booty call when he hears one, and he also knows that Eliott has a wedding band on his finger, so he has to think about it. But it’s 3am, and it’s very possible that Eliott’s crying, and very possible that he just needs comfort while questioning his sexuality. In the end, Lucas says yes._

_Eliott is over within the half hour, standing on Lucas’s doorstep with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jean jacket. Lucas invites him in, ready to talk things out if that's what he needs, and Eliott leaves his shoes at the door._

_They make their way into the kitchen, Eliott barely two steps on Lucas’s heels. Lucas flips the light on and turns around, leaning against the counter._

_“Do you want some tea?” Lucas asks, and Eliott looks at him as though he’s grown another head or something. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”_

_“Lucas, have you never had a one night stand before?”_

_Lucas nearly chokes. “What?”_

_“I called you for sex.”_

_“Yeah, I—I got that. I just…” He looks away for a moment, trying to work his tired brain around things. “I’m just not sure why?”_

_Eliott smiles a little, stepping into Lucas’s space and slipping his hands underneath his shirt, resting them on Lucas’s hips. Lucas’s breath catches at the touch, but he holds firm, because Eliott is fucking married._

_“Because I find you incredibly hot,” Eliott murmurs, tilting and leaning in so their mouths are barely a breath apart. “And I didn’t get to return the favor in the bathroom.”_

_“Because you showed me a wedding ring, Eliott.”_

_At that, Eliott’s smile falters. “Yeah, I know.” He sighs, removing his hands and stepping back a little. “Maybe it was presumptuous to assume you’d be okay with this. I’m sorry. I just… I’m going through something, I think. I’ve never… I’ve never let myself entertain the way I feel about boys.”_

_“Doing it at 3am while your wife is asleep somewhere else is not the best idea, bro, I hate to break it to you.”_

_“No, yeah, I know. Thanks for pointing that out,” Eliott snaps, like he has any right to be angry about anything going on. “Lucille is… She’s great. I don’t know why I can’t make myself feel the way I used to about her.” He looks up, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I shouldn’t use you as a weird pawn in my weird mid-life crisis. I’m sorry I woke you up.”_

_Lucas shrugs, “It’s okay. I kind of expected the night to go this way.”_

_“You really didn’t know this was a booty call?”_

_“Of course I did,” Lucas snorts. “I just also know that you’re straight and, you know, married.”_

_Eliott laughs, but it’s hollow. “Straight. Yeah. That I am.” But he looks so confused, and so sad, and so small. Lucas can’t help but step forward and wrap Eliott in a hug—he knows that Eliott needs it from someone, and this definitely isn’t something that he can go to his wife about, so. Lucas doesn’t mind being this for him._

_Thankfully, Eliott hugs back. They just stand there like that for a while, until Eliott’s breathing is normal and Lucas is about to fall asleep again._

_“For the record,” Lucas murmurs, “I don’t think you’re a bad person. Questioning your sexuality is scary, and it’s normal to get confused about a lot of things. Morality included. And it’s also normal to… To fall out of love. As messy and painful as it is.”_

_“Yeah.” Eliott looks up at him again, and they’re so close that Lucas can see his eyes. Blue. “Thank you, Lucas. For being so kind.”_

_“You’re welcome,” Lucas whispers, and Eliott doesn’t look away. They don’t step away either._

_Eliott has really nice lips._

_But Lucas doesn’t get to mull on that very long, because then Eliott is kissing him, and Lucas is kissing back, and then they’re making their way to Lucas’s bedroom._

***

Lucas moves to the edge of the bed so he’s closer to Eliott, and Eliott stops his pacing. They’re both shaking with anger, but with something else too, and Lucas can see the pain in Eliott’s eyes.

“I love you,” Lucas says firmly, and Eliott looks away. It makes Lucas’s heart break. “No. Fucking look at me, Eliott. Look at me.” He grabs Eliott’s chin, forces him to look Lucas in the eyes. “I’m in love with you, and I know that you love me, too. I know that you love me more than you could ever love her, and it’s not fair to any of us to keep doing this. Why can’t you fucking get that?”

The first few tears slip down Eliott’s cheeks, and Lucas tries not to sob as Eliott steps away and leans against the dresser, chin on his chest. “What am I supposed to tell her, baby? That I’ve been fucking a man for months, and I’m in love with him, and it turns out I’ve been bisexual or pansexual or whatever for the fucking years we’ve been married? The years we’ve been together? And that I don’t love her anymore?”

“If she truly loves you, she’ll understand,” Lucas says desperately. Part of him feels like he’s lying, because he can’t possibly know if Lucille will understand, but god, he hopes he’s right. “It’s not your fault, Eliott. These are the cards you were dealt and you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy. Someone you can love in the same way that they love you. Even if… Even if you don’t want to be with me, you can’t stay with her when you don’t love her. It isn’t fair and you fucking know it.”

“Baby, if it wasn’t for you, I would never even consider ending my marriage.” He looks up again, his eyes desperate and pleading. “Isn’t that enough?”

“What?”

Eliott steps forward to the edge of the bed, taking Lucas’s hands in his own, holding them like a lifeline. He’s searching Lucas’s eyes like he might find the answer of _what the hell do I do?_ hidden in there. “Isn’t it enough that I’m considering it? I’m trying my best for you, baby. One day, it won’t be like this, I promise. One day, it’ll just be you and me. I swear. I just can’t do it today.” He threads their fingers together, and more tears are falling, and every breath sounds like he’s choking.

Lucas wants nothing more than to pull him into bed and hold him until he stops crying. He wants to pet his hair and tell him that everything is okay, and will be okay. But Lucas himself doesn’t even believe that, not right now. He doesn’t know how he could ever convince Eliott of something that he’s lost all hope on.

But he holds Eliott’s hands, and he rests their foreheads together. As much as Eliott needs it, Lucas kind of needs it, too. More than kind of. He’s getting his heart ripped out and stomped on, all because he made the stupid fucking mistake of falling in love with a man who’s used up all of his promises on someone else, and has none left for him.

“I’m not above begging,” Lucas whispers finally, and Eliott audibly sobs. “I’ll get down on the floor on my knees if I have to. I’ll do anything you want me to do, just please."

“You can’t ask me to do this. I’m doing all I can.”

“No, you’re not,” Lucas counters, squeezing Eliott’s hands harder and dropping his head down onto Eliott’s shoulder. “I love you. And every time you walk out that door, you break my fucking heart.”

“Lucas, please don’t tell me this. Don’t tell me this, I can’t—I can’t live knowing how I hurt you.”

Lucas’s voice wobbles as he continues, “Waiting for you to come back makes me feel like I’m fucking dying. Knowing you’re with her, knowing she can hold your hand in public and go on dates with you. Knowing she has your ring on her finger. Knowing you love me but you’re with her. It nearly fucking kills me, sometimes. It’s so much. It’s too much.”

Eliott is shaking now, and Lucas can’t stand it. He unfolds their fingers and wraps his arms tightly around Eliott’s middle, holding him as he cries.

“It’s gonna be okay, Eliott,” Lucas whispers, rubbing his back in small circles, and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

***

_“Let me do it,” Eliott whispers, batting Lucas’s hands away and taking the condom between his own fingers. He’s put a condom on himself before and clearly knows what he’s doing, but his hands still shake as he rolls it down Lucas’s dick._

_Lucas, despite the pleasure he feels just from Eliott’s hand, grips his wrist. “You don’t have to do this if you’re scared, baby. It’s okay.”_

_“No, I want to.”_

_“You’re shaking.”_

_“Lucas, I want to,” Eliott repeats, and Lucas nods, releasing his grip on Eliott’s wrist. Eliott pushes Lucas to lay down and then he rests a knee on either side of Lucas’s hips, eyes never leaving Lucas’s cock. “You’re fucking huge. If I die, I love you.”_

_Lucas laughs, but it’s quickly cut off by Eliott lining Lucas’s dick up and sinking down. He swears loudly and grips Eliott’s hips, trying his hardest not to buck up so he doesn’t hurt Eliott. Once he’s fully seated, Lucas’s seeing stars._

_“This better be good, Lallemant,” Eliott whispers, breathless, starting to move his hips in little figure eight motions. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”_

***

When Eliott’s phone rings, Lucas just hugs him harder, silently begging him to just fucking stay. All he has to do is stay, that’s all he needs to do.

“You have to let me go, love,” Eliott whispers, and Lucas feels his resolve slowly starting to crumble. He can’t fucking do this. “Come on, baby. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Don’t go,” Lucas begs, and his voice cracks. “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, don’t go."

Eliott’s voice is all kinds of fucked when he steps back and says, “I have to.” He pulls on Lucas’s hands until he manages to free himself, and Lucas is left to fall apart on the bedsheets while Eliott scrambles to answer his phone before it goes to voicemail.

Lucas lets out his first sob after Eliott answers, and he hears Lucille’s voice on the other line, asking Eliott where he is. He sees the pain in Eliott’s eyes at the sound, but he doesn’t say or do anything to comfort Lucas. Instead, he says, “I’ve been stuck late at work again, babe. There’s nothing I could do.” Lucas knows the last sentence is for him, too, and he just sobs again.

Lucille speaks for a long time, probably giving Eliott the play-by-play of some work drama, and Eliott takes the time to cover the microphone and turn his full attention to Lucas again.

“I love you,” he whispers, and Lucas wants to slap him more than anything. “Yeah,” he says to Lucille suddenly, “yeah, I’m here. Look, I’ve gotta go, but I’m leaving in a minute, alright? I’ll be home soon.”

Lucas wraps his arms around himself and sits back, scooting back against the headboard and far away from Eliott, so Eliott can’t reach for him again.

But he’s not far enough away to drown out Lucille’s voice, because he can hear her when she says, “Okay. I love you.”

And he can hear Eliott loud and clear when he says, “I love you, too.”

 _Liar!_ Lucas’s mind screams, as he holds himself tighter and buries his face into his knees. _Liar, liar, liar!_

***

_“_ _You know I can’t stay, baby,” Eliott murmurs, drawing small shapes onto Lucas’s bare back. “I have to go home eventually. Lucille will start to worry.”_

_Lucas’s nose wrinkles. “Don’t talk about her while you’re in bed with me. That’s rude.”_

_“Sorry, baby,” Eliott whispers, pressing a kiss to Lucas’s temple in apology._

_They sit in silence for a few moments, and Lucas tucks his nose into Eliott’s neck, breathing in deep and closing his eyes. He imagines that they can stay like this forever, and that Eliott never has to leave, and that he loves Lucas and only Lucas._

_Sometimes, he forgets that’s just a dream._

_Times like now, when Eliott kisses his hair and tells him, “I love you, you know?”_

_Times like that, it’s easy to forget._

***

“Get out!” Lucas yells when Eliott hangs up, and even though Eliott has been arguing that he has to leave this entire time, he suddenly wants to do no such thing. “Get the fuck out, Eliott, I swear to God.”

“Lucas, please—”

“Don’t! Don’t fucking beg me, I’m fucking tired of it. I’ve done enough begging for the both of us, so I don’t want to hear it. Just leave. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Eliott steps closer, and Lucas throws a pillow at him. Eliott, of course, dodges it—so Lucas throws every single pillow, decorative and otherwise, at him until he’s out of pillows and out of resolve to fight.

He just cries, curled up against the headboard and praying that Eliott won’t go, no matter how many times Lucas tells him to.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott whispers, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t reach for Lucas again, simply puts his hand next to Lucas’s leg, lets his thumb press against Lucas’s ankle. “It won’t always be like this, I promise, I just need—”

“Time,” Lucas fills in. “I fucking know. I don’t care, I don’t want time. I want you to fucking leave and never come back.”

Eliott at least has the decency to look surprised, even though Lucas thinks he shouldn’t be. He has to be acting. There’s no way he’s genuinely surprised that, after months of loving Eliott with everything he has only to receive nothing but empty promises in return, Lucas has reached his breaking point.

Eliott whispers, “Baby, you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Lucas snaps, though he definitely doesn’t mean it. “I do. I never want to see you again. You’ve done nothing but waste my time for months. You kiss me, hold me, fuck me, tell me you love me, and all of it means jack shit, because you still go home to her. I’ve begged and I’ve cried and it hasn’t done shit, and I’m done. I’m done trying to be enough for you.”

“Baby,” Eliott says, but he doesn’t say anything else.

For once, Eliott Demaury is speechless.

“Just go. That’s what the fuck you do best."

And God, Lucas should expect it when Eliott stands up and heads for the door, but it hits him like a punch in the stomach anyway. He watches Eliott pocket his phone and wallet, watches him grab his keys and then pull the door open. He watches Eliott stop in the open doorway and turn to look at Lucas for a long second like he wants to say something.

 _Say it,_ Lucas begs. _Tell me you love me, tell me that you’re going to stay._

Eliott says nothing. He turns back around and leaves, and Lucas doesn’t tears fall until he hears the front door close, and he doesn’t let himself cry properly until he hears Eliott’s car pull out of the driveway.

It’s okay, though. In a twisted way. Because he knows Eliott will be back. He knows Eliott will call again, asking to come over. And he knows that he’ll let Eliott in with open arms and an empty bed, and he knows that there will be nothing but more empty promises—but he also knows that any way he can have Eliott, he’ll take it.

***

_“_ _I’m pansexual,” Eliott says, and it’s the first time he’s ever said it before, Lucas can tell. “I’m pansexual. I like men, too, and that’s okay.” He looks up, looks Lucas in the eye, and smiles. “I’m in love with Lucas, and that’s okay.”_

_Lucas smiles back, “It’s okay. It’s all okay, just like I said.”_

_Eliott crawls across the bed, places himself into Lucas’s arms and hums when Lucas starts scratching his scalp. “Of course everything is going to be okay. Because we’re gonna get married and grow old together and have lots of children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.”_

_“Is that so?”_

_“Mhm,” Eliott nods, kissing Lucas’s wrist where he can reach. “I promise.”_

_“A promise is a serious thing, you know.”_

_“I know,” Eliott whispers. “I would never make you a promise that I can’t keep.”_

_Lucas’s smile falters only for a second, and he’s happy that Eliott isn’t actually looking at him, because he’s suddenly on the verge of tears. “I know,” he whispers, and hopes his voice doesn’t wobble._

_He doesn’t believe Eliott, but as he watches Eliott fall asleep in his lap, he figures that’s a problem for another day._

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @elullemant  
> find me on twitter @finelinealbums
> 
> be kind, always.


End file.
